“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

It was hard not to worry, but right now, her brain was spinning with everything. Once inside her car, he got behind the steering wheel and smiled at her. He looked so tired; his hair was a mess of black waves and his shirt was covered in her…her blood. She swallowed thickly, forcing her gaze forward.

Standing on the porch was Daemon. By the brutal look on his face, there was no doubt that he’d seen them—seen her trace.

Bethany’s house was dark and silent when she walked in. All she wanted to do was shower all the blood and grime off and sleep for a year. Dawson was coming back over, and she was going to sneak him in. A first for her, but she knew he honestly needed to be near her right now. Dawson was rattled, still shaky over what happened.

So was she.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one gulp. The memory of falling haunted her steps as she threw the plastic in the trash. She’d fallen and the impact—oh, God—the pain had been so intense but brief. Final.

And then there had been nothing.

Bethany wasn’t sure how long that nothing had lasted, but the next thing she’d heard was Dawson telling her to please wake up and that he loved her. At first, she’d been confused. Had she fallen asleep? But then it hit her.

And she was still reeling from it.

Had she been knocked unconscious? If the blood was any indication, she’d been seriously injured. The big question was—had she been knocking on death’s door or had she died?

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Bethany shuddered.

Somehow, Dawson had healed her—fixed everything that had been damaged in the fall. What he had done was awe-inspiring and beyond comprehension. And their hearts—they’d been beating in perfect sync. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. It had to be some kind of weird byproduct of what he’d done. Very weird, but nothing she was afraid of. How could she be?

Dawson loved her.

And that kind of love… It was amazing.

Still thirsty, she grabbed another bottle of water and headed for the stairs. Without any warning, the kitchen light came on.

Uncle Will stood in the doorway, his eyes blinking against the light. “Bethany, what—oh my God, are you okay?”

Crap. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He shuffled to her as fast as he could. Over the last couple of weeks, he had been getting better, stronger. Brown hair peppered with gray covered his head now. Soon, he’d be living back in his own home again.

“My God, Beth, you’re covered in blood.” He put a shaky hand on her shoulder, eyeing her like any doctor would, searching for visible injuries. “What the hell happened?”

Think fast, Beth, think fast. “Dawson and I went hiking, and he cut himself on a jagged rock. He bled…a lot.”

Uncle Will’s eyes widened. “Did he bleed all over you?”

“Pretty much, but he’s okay.” She went past him, heart pounding. “Everything’s fine, though, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Beth—”

“I’m pretty tired, though.” God, she needed to get away and clean herself up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Not waiting for a response, she dashed up the stairs and closed her door behind her. Crap, her uncle would probably say something to her parents and they’d flip. But there weren’t any visible injuries. Maybe she’d be able to convince them it wasn’t as bad as it seemed to Uncle Will.

Not maybe. She would.

Dawson’s secret relied upon Bethany convincing her family everything was fine.

Chapter 18

Dawson was so wiped out he could barely stand. He plopped down at the kitchen table, resting his head on his hand. A steady throbbing had taken up residency between his temples. He needed to shower and then get his butt over to Bethany’s. What he wanted was to hold her, to reassure himself that she was very much alive.

But first he was in for a major bitching session.

Daemon glared at him from across the table. “What the hell happened? And don’t you dare say nothing. She’s glowing like a freaking sun.”

What could he say? He didn’t have a clue. No way could he explain what he had done, and until he understood it better, he wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not even Dee.

“I’m still waiting,” Daemon said.

Dawson pried one eye open. “I was showing off, being stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

His brother’s mouth dropped open. Disbelief filled his expression. “You have to be the—”

“Stupidest guy around, I know.”

“That doesn’t explain why both of you look like you jumped off a mountain.”

Dawson flinched. “Bethany fell…and skinned up her hands. It looks worse than it is.”

Daemon’s gaze surveyed him. “No doubt.”

Dawson sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry,” Daemon growled. “Sorry really doesn’t fix this, bro. That other Arum—he’s still out there. And now you’ve gone and lit up your girl’s ass like the Fourth of freakin’ July. Again. You’re going to get that girl killed.”

Whoa, that stung like a bitch. “Is the other Arum really out there, Daemon?” He lifted his head, weary. “We haven’t seen him or any other Arum in months. He’s gone.”

“We don’t know that.”

Very true, but he was too tired to argue. “I’ll keep her away from here until it fades.” If it ever faded, because he wasn’t sure it would. “I’ll take care of this.”




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